Ryan pushed open the large door, feeling sunlight dance on his skin. Squinting against the sun's glare, which he hadn't seen in months, it almost felt blinding. Slowly adjusting, he scanned the surroundings, not spotting any guards. It seemed the dungeon had been abandoned for years before his arrival.
Looking around, he saw the emerald glint of trees and bushes. The dungeon was a considerable distance from any town, advantageous for Ryan, minimizing the risk of someone spotting him come out of it.
He considered finding the girl who had visited his cell to ask for his help, but the system had a different plan.
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A conqueror's path. (All Quests under this must be completed)
QUEST: (deal with the province leader)
Details: Convince the province ruler to accept your help in the beast tide. Also, Negotiate that if Azkai is to survive the beast tide with your significant help, you should be given at least 50% of all cores obtained in the stand-off against the tide.
Rewards: Endless book of spells
Failure: Death.
Time limit: 72hrs
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"Is death the only penalty for failure?" Ryan sighed as he stored the dagger in his inventory, haven't confirmed there was no one around.
'I need a change of clothes,' Ryan decided, pulling the coins he had taken off the guard from the inventory. 'I wonder how much this is,' he thought, examining the silver coins.
"Well, we'll have to find out," Ryan began making his way into town, hoping the money could buy him clothes, food, and maybe, for the first time in months, a nice and comfortable place to sleep.
He walked for about half an hour before reaching it, the closest town to him in Azkai.
It was nothing like the slave town he had first seen; no dead bodies lay on the floor, and the scent of blood didn't sting his nostrils. Instead, it smelled like a mix of autumn and roasting pork.
The buildings stood resilient, covered in moss, made from stone and wood worn down by the elements, having seen countless seasons and weathers. They thrived regardless.
The streets, a stretch of interlocked cobblestone and mud, threaded by the jolly bunch of the province's citizens. For the most part, hearty conversation and laughter filled the air, although the heated argument of two angry townsmen could also be heard from a distance.
It had all the necessities of an average town, but Ryan, with his blood-stained white dress shirt and black trousers, did not blend in. Gazes began to fall on him, along with whispers here and there.
Ryan had thought he could keep his head low and blend in until he found a place to get new clothes, but now he stood out like an elephant in a barn.
"Fuck, this won't work," Ryan muttered, and as he did, with the elegance of a gust of wind that kisses the road and vanishes to nothing, he was gone.
[Soundless step]
Ryan breathed a sigh of relief as he stood in one of the dark alleys. The sun's rays, like trespassers, barely reached these parts even in the brightest afternoons. It stunk of alcohol and mistakes.
"Damn it, I can't walk around like this," Ryan heaved as he tried to come up with another strategy. Just then, someone pushed open what Ryan didn't know was a door, holding a bag of trash as he came out of one of the buildings.
Ryan and the man locked gaze for a moment before the man's eyes trailed down to see the blood on Ryan's shirt.
"Can I help you, sir?" The man asked, his beard and hair a bright white.
Ryan observed the man; he didn't seem hostile, but he still needed to be careful.
"I want to buy clothes and food," Ryan replied, thinking up no better option.
The man observed Ryan again, scrutinizing him for a moment before speaking.
"Well then, you came to the right place. Come on in," he gestured as he flung the trash bag to the side, where others were not so carefully nestled.
With slight hesitation in his step, Ryan followed the man through the door and into the building. As he stepped in, he immediately knew where the smell of alcohol in the alley came from.
Men sat around tables and sipped from large mugs of beer, their faces etched with a fading sorrow. A couple more mugs and it'd be completely gone.
"Come on, sit," the man gestured to one of the chairs in front of the bar. "You new in town, ain't ya?" the man asked as Ryan walked over to one of the wooden bar stools and sat.
"Yeah," Ryan replied simply.
"I'm sure you got quite the story," the man chuckled as he looked at Ryan's bloody shirt. "But first, let me get you food and some change of clothes." The man turned away into a door that seemed to lead to the kitchen.
Ryan was a good actor, so he could recognize other actors, but this man wasn't one. This man was genuinely nice... to him?
What a strange feeling it was.